


Return To Sender, Damaged In Transit

by angree_baratheon



Category: True Beauty - Yaongyi (Webcomic), 여신강림 | True Beauty (Korea TV)
Genre: F/M, Healing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Moving On, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, and they fight a lot, but learn to somehow care for each other? oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29133369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angree_baratheon/pseuds/angree_baratheon
Summary: Seojun, now an international idol, met Kang Sujin again as his new dietitian nutritionist seven years later. Chaos, miscommunication, recovery, and maybe a bit of a potential romance ensue. Not chronologically told. Future-fic, and mainly k-drama based.
Relationships: Kang Sujin/Han Seojun, Seojun Han/Sujin Kang
Comments: 32
Kudos: 77





	1. Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sitting here _shook_ that these two haven't gotten a tag yet. Where are all my Seojun X Sujin shippers out there? Here *gives a cookie* this is a safe space.
> 
> Again, as it says on the tin: this is a future-fic, mainly based on the K-Drama because I just prefer their interpretation of Sujin much better. This will _not_ be told chronologically, which meant it isn't written in a linear timeline, because I'm just going along with whatever my head's telling me to do. Do I have any control over it? Not at all!
> 
> Regardless, if you feel like you'd like to catch up, I did write something quick to follow over here: [on this tumblr post](https://maariarogers.tumblr.com/post/640741264800841728/random-plot-bunnies-from-my-seojun-x-sujin), but this can be read independently. Like, just plunge in like I do: 100% clueless, but absolutely ready to rumble.
> 
> This has mentions of abuse, unhealthy coping mechanism, instigation of violence. So please be careful if those aren't your genre. Both of our main characters _are_ trying their best to recover, mainly Sujin, but yeah. Sometimes life sucks and is unfair. It happens.
> 
> I hope you have a good time reading, cause I had a good time imagining Park Youna and Hwang In Yeop as main leads in a slow-burn enemies-turn-lovers plot.

“What’s your problem?” Seojun doesn’t mean to sound like he does. Which is cruel, demanding, cold. He can’t help it though. She’s been - _off_ , the whole night. Meaner. Which, well, he doesn’t really care for most of the time. It’s become a staple of who she is since he’d known her, all those years ago, and she’d only grown to become more direct ever since they met again.

But to yell at some poor intern girl just because she bumped into her?

Seojun has never tolerated bullies. Couldn’t. Not after what happened to Seyeon.

“Did you throw your manners into the trash?” He demands again, straight through his teeth. Sujin is looking at him with those piercing blank eyes, looking almost like she could muster the courage to become just as angry - but she doesn’t. She looks a little empty, instead. Hollow. “The intern apologised. You didn’t have to yell at her.”

“Right,” She somehow says - her tone clipped. Short. “It’s my fault.”

Seojun says nothing to that. _Yeah_ , _it is,_ he wants to scoff. Wants to roll his eyes and probably scold at her some more. If that had been Gowoon, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Hell, if it’d been Lim Juyeong, the mess that the guy is, (like really, what is Heegyeong-noona and Lim Jugyeong doing with their little brother anyways? Why does Seojun always end up feeling like a babysitter?), he would’ve gotten an earful.

But with Kang Sujin — whatever piece of mind he’d like to give vanish away when he remembers that night. Cheap store-bought beers and her hands trembling when she’s holding the can. _I didn’t want to be like my parents. I don’t want to be angry or look away and pretend that something bad isn’t happening. I want - to be good._

He opens his mouth, about to ask if she’s okay, until—

“You should hit me.”

Seojun snaps his eyes straight to her face.

The emptiness from before is replaced now, quite horribly, with this layers of - determination. But not the good kind. No. Maybe it isn’t determination at all. _Desperation_ , he could almost hear something in him echoing the word back. She’s desperate - to be hit? Seojun feels something inside him drops.

“What the—”

“Come on,” Sujin comes closer, her eyes growing wide. Insistent. _She’s crazy_ , he thinks in that split second, backing away. “Hit me.”

“Oi, Kang Sujin—”

“What!” She yells then, her voice echoing in that small pantry he manages to drag her in. She’s pushing against him now. Tiny hands in her stupid gloves knocking against his chest. “You’re not man enough? Think I can’t hit you right back? Hit me!”

 _She’s fucking crazy_ , Seojun thinks again, this time with more force behind it rather than a simple shock. He grasps at her shoulders - it’s easy, since she’s still small even after all these years, and he towers over her like it’s nothing. But her arms are still flailing, still punching him and shoving.

He shouts back, “Kang Sujin!”

“What,” this time when she snaps right back at him, glaring, it’s as if Seojun’s momentarily back at their school, confronting her in that small space between the class building — all red brick, and hot anger. Although he’s not sure now from where the anger really comes from: his, or hers. “Aren’t you Han Seojun the mad dog? How many gangs have you beaten up in high school, huh? You’ve become weak now? You’re a coward?”

“Kang Sujin, stop,” his voice wavers. Is he terrified? Maybe. Of what - he’s not sure. Not her, not specifically. But the implication behind it. The invitation to be hurt. He’s - seen this somewhere, he thinks.

Maybe it’s in Suho, when he steps into that traffic ages ago.

“Why? Why should I?!” She yells back, her voice bouncing off the walls. Seojun can see a few people and peers peering in. He glares, and they scurry off. “I yelled at the poor girl. She just bumped into me, and I tore her down. I didn’t care about her. I deserve to be punished. I’m horrible.”

“That’s not—”

“I deserve to be hit,” the traces of red in her eyes are brightened now. Enhanced. Seojun can see tears prickling by her eyelashes. Her teeth are clattering together - she’s trembling again. She’s so small and angry and trembling, like a dog shivering from the rain. Seojun feels an ache in him. He doesn’t what it is.

“C-come on ... Come on, Han Seojun—” She grasps his hand.

Brings it to her face.

Seojun could only watch, wide-eyed somehow. Stupid.

Like he’s still stumbling over his Korean alphabets, like he’s that fifth-grader who still wets his bed. Stupid.

“You know you want to. Remember what I did to Jugyeong?” She says again, stubborn. Yes, he does remember. How could he have forgotten? But it’s also so long ago. So many things have happened since. And, moreover, he also remembers her, whispering when she thought he couldn’t hear, _Jugyeong was my friend too_. “I exposed her. When she trusted me. Did you know that? She trusted me with her bare-face and I told the whole school. That was me.”

“Stop, Kang Sujin.”

“Hit me. Punch me.” He realises, suddenly, that he’s had the hand that she’s holding curled into a fist. _Fuck_ , Seojun curses under his breath, wanting to pull it away, but Sujin’s grip is tighter. Her voice breaks. “C-come on. I deserve it. I’m horrible. I was a bad friend. A bad person. I was— _please just hit me_.”

“No.” His answer comes resolute, strong.

That seems to switch something inside of her. In an instant, she yells again, coming at him. “Coward!” She shouts, high-pitched, kicking and clawing, but Seojun’s quicker. Years on the street still has him fast on his feet, and he snatches her from the back, pinning her arms to the side.

She’s yelling still, fighting. Her legs are thrashing about. Seojun avoids the bang of her skull, and he shouts too — just so she would hear. Just so she would know.

“I won’t hit you.”

_“FUCKING COWARD!”_

“Fuck, Sujin—”

“You’re a fucking coward. You think I can’t take you?!”

She probably could. Leave a scratch or two. It’d be bloodied. But that won’t do - and, anyways. What’s the point? Rather than a fight, he just - ... well, he doesn’t know what he wants, but not this. Those nights when he could finally convince her to stay for dinner, maybe. Or those few times when he made her smile, and he feels a little less lonely. And he knows he made her feel the same.

 _I want to be good,_ she told him.

He slides down against the door where her struggling has taken him, with Kang Sujin still in his arms. He doesn’t let up. He knows he couldn’t. She’s still fighting against the hold, but it seems as if she knows she’s lost it when they both are on the ground.

Seojun can’t see her face, but she shakes.

He breathes, heavy, and forces out again. “I won’t hit you. Ever.”

Slowly, yet all at once, Seojun hears a wretched sob. Sujin hangs her head, the tips of her black hair touching the knuckles where his hands clutched together across her chest. Seojun lays his head against the door. He sighs.

“Not even back then.” The back of the school. The Lim Jugyeong Bare-face Article. He was angry, yes. But he thinks he doesn’t think he would ever — “So, stop asking me to do it already, will you?”

Sujin is silent, crying.

The sound of it — Seojun doesn’t think he could ever forget. The inhale gasps, the way she holds in her voice, but it leaks in these broken notes anyway, resonating in the air. And all he could hear besides is the slow buzzing of the refrigerator. He’s still holding on to her, staring at the back of her head.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he somehow finds himself saying. He leans forward - kisses the top of that circle where the roots of her hair meet, before he just rests his forehead against it. Waits. Breathes. “I forgive you.”

Sujin shakes some more, weeping.


	2. Uninvited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was really the reason why i decided to finally post the drabble for this AU on AO3. _this_ follow-up is what's been bothering me!!!!
> 
> trigger warning: mention of abuse, thoughts of self-harming, extreme self-degradation, and unhealthy coping mechanism by instigation of violence. please be careful and take care of yourself!

She didn’t mean to let him in.

Really.

She shouldn’t anyway. Yes, her apartment is secluded and private — there are two securities just to get to her building, and it usually requires an access card to get to any floors — and, despite the amount of names she’s thrown him, he’s - smart. Quick-witted. If not long enough in the industry to know the ways of avoiding the stalking cameras real good.

But still - the risk of letting him in. A known idol. Her contract with the agency.

She lets him in.

Sujin immediately feels as if she’s naked, standing there in her living room while he faces her by the entrance of her door. Not in any way that makes her desirable though. No - she hasn’t felt desirable, _wanted_ , for a long time. Not in the way she dreamed of as a little girl when she would sneak peeks at her neighbour’s television just to watch a Disney movie, wondering what it would be like to be swept away; to have a someone, anyone, to give her the glass slipper. A fairy godmother. Someone who would take her far away.

No, this sickly sensation of feeling exposed is from ... something else. Something she did, a few days ago, when she should’ve just gone home. Took the day off.

Han Seojun seems unaffected by the dilemma. He’s wearing an all-grey jersey, hair pushed back under his cap and a mask to cover half of his face. She gets it - he’s trying to stay on the low. He looks suspicious all the same.

Sujin doesn’t like him here.

She makes it known, “Where did you get my address?”

“I asked Ahrim-noona to give me. Said it’s an emergency.”

Ahrim-unni. The catalyst to this reunion she’d never asked for. _Why her_ , she can’t help thinking. Moreover, why had she said yes at all.

(Though she knows the answer. It’s simply because Ahrim-unni had done so much, have helped her when no one dared approach her and the distant she keeps up. It’s because she thinks she can pretend, she can act, and that maybe Han Seojun can figure that out somehow. _Can follow along_. Spoiler alert: he couldn’t.)

(More spoiler alert: Neither could she.)

“That’s a breach of privacy,” she scolds.

Sujin can tell he doesn’t care. How? He rolls his eyes at it, pushing past her and march inside. “Wah, you really have no manners. That isn’t how you greet someone into your house.”

“Greeting implies I welcomed or invited you. I did neither.” But she realises she doesn’t exactly drag him out, or insist that he leaves. He should. He really ought to. Sujin’s sure this is - unprofessional, somehow. Though she feels inadequate, pulling such label now, after all he’s seen of her.

_Damn, did she really have a mental breakdown and asked Han Seojun to hit her in the middle of work?_

“I brought some medicine,” Han Seojun wiggles the plastic he has in his hand. Sujin glances at it, feels guilt rearing up from within all over again, and schools herself from vomiting. “Have you eaten?”

He goes to her kitchen.

Sujin stays where she is, takes deep breath.

And then, by some sheer luck, she finds her courage again. Enough, that she walks to the kitchen too. Or near it, seeing as it’s an open area, and she doesn’t need to enter to see him rummaging through her cabinets. But not enough of that stupid courage to look him in the eyes yet.

_Why had it had to be him? Why them?_

“I’m not in the mood,” she grits through her teeth, and tries not to hiss at the sudden throbbing at the side of her head. “I have a headache.”

“Then go to bed. I’ll bring in the medicine.” Han Seojun is tactless. Sujin doesn’t know where it comes from - is it due to him simply not caring of decency, or all of those bad grades accumulated into series of confusingly bad decisions, Sujin isn’t sure, but she also knows deep inside that, in this state specially, there’s little she could say now where she can see herself winning this argument.

It’s guilt, for one. Shame, for another.

 _Why had it had to be him_ , she questions the universe again. Out of all the people to see her on the height of a breakdown, why must it be Han Seojun? Who couldn’t have cared less for her, who probably cursed every day that he met her again.

(Although sometimes Sujin fools herself into thinking he hadn’t mind her as much. Sometimes his eyes light up when she comes during training, sometimes she sees him smile after arguing with her.)

What right does she have to demand anything when he’s seen - so much. All those anger, and ugliness, even from those years ago, and - and that _revolting_ want to have a choice at fighting something, anything, back just because she couldn’t do the same towards an uncaring father. She’s disgusting. Trash.

Sujin doesn’t say a word.

And it’s like she’s on auto-pilot, or maybe she just doesn’t want to give him another chance to see the tears building up by the edge of her eyes. _Stupid_ , she thinks, as she climbs into her bed, choking on a sob. She should’ve taken care of herself better. Should’ve known she wasn’t good to go that day.

Then everything could be avoided; whatever shreds left of her dignity she was maintaining could still exist.

What does she have now - _nothing_ , except this absolute feeling of humiliation, and Han Seojun getting the front-row seat as it all tumbled down.

“Hey,” Speak of the devil.

 _When did he get here?_ She wonders, but he’s here now, and she’s sniffling. Pathetic. Sujin tries to wipe at any tears or snot away, and Seojun puts the tray he brought by the bedside table. 

“You should leave.”

It’s like he doesn’t even hear her. He’s already popping out two painkillers — white, dull thing — onto the palm of his hand, before he snatches the glass of water. “Drink this,” he instructs. “Then, lay down.”

Sujin watches him - red-rimmed eyes set in a glare, hoping despite the flushed-but-sickeningly-pale look she must be sporting, that it’s intimidating. Han Seojun isn’t deterred. He simply raises an eyebrow, as if to challenge her to do anything but obey his simple request.

She takes the pills. Swallows it dry.

“Drink,” Han Seojun insists anyway.

Sujin wants to disappear. “You don’t have to do this.”

He shrugs, “I’m doing it. Now lay down.”

Maybe it’s simply to entertain him, maybe it’s because she doesn’t care anymore - but she follows what he asks, and she lies down, face towards the figure that is Han Seojun. He’s pulling up a chair, and he sits on it like those spouses or siblings or — _or family and friends_ — sitting by the hospital bed of their loved one. Like he _cares_. And it hurts.

Suddenly his hand is near her face, and Sujin shoots up. Smacks it away.

“What are you doing?” Her breath comes out laboured and flashes of memories — _Father, glaring her down, hands coming up, in a fist, oh no, she has to get away_ — grips at her, dries out her mouth. The throbbing at the side of her skull vanishes and returns all at the same. Sujin feels like vomiting all over again.

“I—” His voice disappears. They stare at each other. She wonders how she looks like. Manic, maybe. Terrified. _Pitiful_. “I was just—”

“Don’t touch me.”

His voice hardens, “I was never - Kang Sujin, did you think I was going to h— do something - _bad_ \- to you?” He seems like he struggles through the idea, and it’s a scary thought, to think that Seojun might know. Might know, because maybe Suho said something, even though she knows he would never. But still - to consider that he _might_. “I won’t hit you. I told you this.”

“Why?” it comes out as a reflect, this snap. “You think I can’t take you?”

It’s like they’re back at the agency, and she’s clawing up hoping he’d do something - anything - as long as she can fight off her father’s disappointing words and angry shouts. _Why won’t he fight her?_ She considers, for a split second, maddeningly. _She can throw a punch too_.

Seojun makes a face, annoyed almost. “Aish, you’re so hell-bent on — oi, you think I have enough energy to spare after all the training and meetings to fight you? Why would I, anyway - did you do something to Lim Jugyeong again? Suho kicks ass too, you know.”

The scoff comes out of nowhere. “He won’t,” she finds herself shaking her head, “He doesn’t have the heart.”

“He’s not as divine as you think, you know.” Seojun argues, and it’s instinct, the glare she returns.

She knows it’s been seven years but - it’s still so easy to fall back into being protective, _possessive_ , of the one person she thought would take her away. Like a fairy godmother. Or maybe, if she dreams hard enough, like a prince.

“I won’t hit you,” Seojun says suddenly, returning to the conversation at hand. They stare at each other again. He pulls out a balm. “I was going to rub your head.”

She doesn’t answer him. Doesn’t reply. Nothing.

Not for a long time.

Until Seojun must have found the silent suffocating. He stumbles into his words, defending himself quite shamelessly, “I just — I didn’t — it helps with headache okay?!” He murmurs haughtily, looking away. “Can’t a guy just lend a hand or something?”

And then, for some reason, Sujin smiles - small, confused. “You’re so stupid.”

He glares at her. “Wah, only you would say that to someone who wanted to help. Now are you laying down or what? You can put on the stupid balm yourself if you want. See if I care.”

 _You don’t_ , is the answer that comes automatically to her but - she doesn’t say that. No. Sujin gives it a second, then two. Slowly, she lays down again. Rests one side of her face against the pillow, watching him. He’s stupid, but—

He’s not so bad, this Han Seojun.

Even if he hates her.

“Put it on me.” She dares him. “And if my hair’s greasy, that’s on you.”

He makes a face again, blanching, but he doesn’t walk away. Doesn’t move from his spot. _Why is he staying_ , she wonders quietly to herself, otherwise entranced by the movement of his lean fingers twisting the lid of the balm open. He smears it, then it comes up and — it’s horrifying, for a second, that it’s nearing her face, his hands, but Sujin doesn’t move. Forces herself not to.

 _He won’t hurt her,_ the mantra repeats. _Even if he does, she can still—_

But he doesn’t. Seojun doesn't hurt her.

He’s rubbing against her temple - a slow, steady motion. The smell of the balm overpowering, but annoyingly calming for some reason. Sujin has this faint memory of wooden floors and sandal woods. Trees that go for ages. Mountains and creeks and crisp morning air and bicycles that she’s never really ridden again. Sweets that she would never enjoy at the city otherwise, a smiling face agreeing not to tell her parents.

“You said your great-grandmother from your mom’s side would always do this for you when you’re sick,” she suddenly hears Seojun supply.

Sujin opens her eyes, and their eyes meet.

Seojun looks solemn, serious. His hand doesn’t stop.

Sujin, for some reason, doesn’t break eye-contact. But he’s getting glassier, blurrier around the edges. Oh, she realises dumbly. She’s crying. _Great-Grandmother,_ that must be the woman with the wrinkly smile and shaking hands that she's remembering. Yeah, Sujin remembers her. She was the last person to love her. But she died the winter of her ninth birthday. The funeral was short. They never really went back to Great-Grandmother's hometown after that.

Finally, she croaks, “Do you pity me?”

Though she wants to ask so much more - wants to ask if he hasn’t mistaken the road on his way to wherever he was going, and that this was a mistake. Because of course it is. Of course it would be. Kang Sujin is nothing but a mistake.

But Han Seojun’s voice is rough, deep. Firm.

“No,” he answers. “It’s not pity.”

She sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to think sujin came from old money. her father has never really liked his wife's side of the family that much, but during the summer as a young girl, sujin stays over at her grandparents' who were housing her old great-grandmother. in all honesty, sujin can't really remember her that much: just that she was the only one who really attended to her whenever she visited. the great-grandmother had alzheimer towards the end of her life, so by the end she only calls sujin "pretty girl" and "lovely girl" but they're still really fond of each other.


	3. Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place when sujin and seojun were only beginning to bond, but before the Ultimate Breakdown in chapter 1.

“Yeah, I’ll admit it.”

When Seojun looks over, Kang Sujin is staring at the sky. She has a smile on her face, a serene one. The thought is random, but it occurs to him suddenly that he doesn’t really see her smile that often. Not in that way; not from her putting the expression on because she’s accommodating the company she is in.

She glances at him, “It’s beautiful.”

Seojun snaps himself out of it.

Right. He’d taken her to the rooftop of Kim Chorong’s house. It’s - a small house. Fitting in about two other member of their gang, but it’s become a place to meet for all of the boys ever since. Partly because the location is almost obscure, hidden from the main roads into the city, and away from the prying eyes of the agonising paparazzi.

Kim Chorong’s place is also on a slanted hill. So, the houses stack like pancakes. And his bear the view of the city - or what they could make out of it, past the trees and the highways.

Seojun finds it numbingly pretty anyways, even if it means he’s just staring at passing cars and not much else. It takes the edge off, and it disconnects him from his overbearing schedule much quicker than he would like to admit. Just - watching people go by along with this comfort that he can hold onto that small piece of being anonymous, unseen.

He’s not - unseen now, he doesn’t think, under Sujin’s raised eyebrow at his silent, and he doesn’t why - but this discovery doesn’t totally unnerves him.

Maybe because he’s finally accepted it: that Kang Sujin is apart of his team, and a good damn dietitian at it. Maybe she doesn’t hold him in that high of a regard, fine, but — she takes care of him. Just like Ahrim-Noona said she would. Seojun doesn’t look pass that.

“You never said,” he starts - not quite sure where he’s going with this, but the words are already out. Seojun pretends he’s kicking at a pebble, even though the floor is clean. Ji Youngwoo, one of Kim Chorong’s unfortunate roommate, has a knack for keeping things clean. “Inside, before.”

He’s referring to an hour ago when they all were surrounding the old-but-luckily-working grilling pan as Choi Mansik and Kim Gunwoo flipped the meat. Seojun doesn’t know where he’d gotten the courage to invite Sujin to such a thing, or, hell, _why she would agree_.

But there she’d been, right by him, with Ho Jinwoong staring dumbly on her other side. Seojun had leaned back and knocked the dude by the head for looking like such a creep — but he resumed gaping over Kang Sujin about twenty minutes after, rendering Seojun’s action pointless.

But that isn’t what he wants to bring up now.

“About why you didn’t become a doctor.” He can’t help it - he lets his curiosity bleeds through in his question. It was what everyone expected of her and Lee Suho from school. Lawyer, or a doctor, or an engineer. Though doctor had been the most popular vote, and what Seojun would privately bet on if asked, although that was mostly because he’d been introduced to Professor Kang.

He’d known, from what little Suho could tell about Sujin, that her father had came from a family of prominent medical doctors.

For a moment, Seojun thinks Sujin would snap at him again. Or does that thing where she glares, and doesn’t say anything, ultimately cornering him into giving up whatever it was that he was trying to press forward. But instead - she blinks. Inhales. And then, “I didn’t want to end up like my father.”

Oh. _Oh_ , this is a big topic. Parents.

Seojun would never think it would lead them to this. Or - maybe he has his suspicion, but he never puts any concrete thought to the point it solidifies into an actual form of concern. _Father_ , Seojun thinks, trying to recall the face of an earnest but serious-looking man. Lean. Glasses, right? He’d always have this clipped way of addressing and talking to his nurses.

Seojun supposes to an extent he can spot some familiarity there.

“Or, rather—” Sujin holds onto the railing. “I didn’t want to end up becoming what he wanted me to be. Then, I’ll...”

She trails off, eyes into a distant that Seojun immediately knows he can’t reach. Ever since they bumped into one another, he’s been noticing this particular trait of hers more and more. She goes quiet during these times. And when she returns to her surrounding, she has this small smile - like an iron flattening the wrinkle of a fold - she comes back to the scene. Tries to catch up with what everyone’s doing rather, playing a part she momentarily forgets.

“Then you’ll...?” Seojun beckons.

Sujin turns to him, silent, but her mouth open as if she’s surprised he’s there and speaking to her. Then, predictably, that smile. Small. She shakes her head. “It was always my Father’s dream for me to become a doctor. It just wasn’t mine, is all.”

Seojun steps closer to her.

Like this, he can really acknowledge how small she is. Tiny. Or - maybe he’s just too tall. Sujin can still kick his ass though, he bets, and there’s something charming in that. The fact that he towers over her, but not once has she ever really found that _that_ part of him intimidating.

“So, what, you’ve always wanted to look after someone’s diet?” He asks, and Sujin wears that expression that she wears when she finds him stupid.

Even that doesn’t offend him as much now. Ah, he must’ve really, really gotten used to her being around.

“No,” she rolls her eyes and then, one spin, she has her back against the railing. Looks at him. “I didn’t - have a dream. Not for a long time.”

 _Oh_ , Seojun thinks.

He thinks, for a moment, he didn’t have much of one too. But then - he gets up that stage. And it feels so good to sing again. So nice to hold a mic and lets himself be immersed in the song. Even better, when people liked him for it. Like that, he doesn’t have to worry about — about mom, and their rents, and Gowoon’s college funds, and, he thinks sadly, Lim Jugyeong.

It’s just his voice, it’s just his feelings.

“But then my aunt invited me to do some volunteering work, and—” Seojun looks to her and she - she’s smiling again, so softly. Nothing like the Kang Sujin Seojun knows. And he’s awestruck. Rooted to the spot. He doesn’t know. How could he, that Sujin could smile like that too. “I love it.”

“Yeah?” Seojun grins a little.

Sujin takes a sip of her beer. This time, when she looks to the distant, she isn’t - lost. No, this is a different expression. She’s - content. Happy, even. “Yeah.”

Seojun takes a sip of his own beer, glances towards the scenery.

It’s late, he realises dumbly. His car will come soon, but - what about Sujin? Maybe he could drop her off. That’d be the smartest thing to do. He wonders if she’ll let him.

“I thought I just liked it because it made me feel good about myself. It made me forget the terrible thing I did to... to Jugyeong.” She hangs her head now, guilty; but Seojun couldn’t think much about the matter now. As far as he’s concerned, Jugyeong’s happy and has long moved on. It’s been five years, after all. Maybe he should tell her this.

He couldn’t though. Sujin continues, “But then I just... I started to _miss it_ when I’m not doing it.”

He grins now, fully. Looking at her.

Who knew.

The pristine, princess-like Kang Sujin, running around in vests and sweat. Seojun dares not to believe it, but then he could also - imagine her like that. Imagine her finding fulfilment in it. Imagine her scouring the internet for more.

“It was during one the volunteer work that I met another dietitian. I thought it’s - interesting, that there could be so much effort to be put into food. But... it should be, right? It’s what you put in your body. And - and I wanted to try it. So, here I am.”

She glances at him. Seojun pretends the floor is interesting.

“Here you are,” he echoes regardless.

“Yes. Drinking beer at midnight at Kim Chorong’s bachelor house staring at cars passing by with one Han Seojun.” Her tone is blank, unamused. “Unfortunately.”

“Oi!” Seojun automatically yelps and then he turns and — Sujin is laughing. At him. But it’s so - _new_ , he thinks. Her cheeks are pink from the alcohol, and she’s just chuckling at him. Seojun doesn’t know what he should do with this information. “Lots of my fans would kill to have your spot, you know.” He mumbles into his beer can.

Sujin, he could see, rolls her eyes. “I’d like to see them try.”

“Honestly,” he scowls at her. “Please control your bloodlust.”

And then she does it again - she chuckles. A soft, easy sound. And all Seojun could do is drink. It warms him down to his toes.

The railing that she’s leaning again suddenly creaks under pressure - and Seojun is quick. He has his palm already at the back of her spine, pushing her away. If she topples down, who knows how far she would go. There’s branches and weeds. Ah, someone could really get hurt.

Kim Chorong should really do something about this.

“Careful!” Seojun hisses, just as Sujin gets a better grip on her balance, then says, “You know.”

Seojun turns to her, his hand slides to the crook of her elbow. They’re facing one another now. She smells faintly, he thinks, of that new perfume a girl group in the agency is promoting. The smell is strong — lemon and jasmine? — but refreshing. She also smells like the beer, and the meat they grilled.

And there’s a faint mole, Seojun realises dumbly, that she has under an eye.

“I don’t want to be like my parents. I don’t want to be angry or look away and pretend that something bad isn’t happening. I want - to be good.”

The world is quiet.

Seojun wants to say, _I think you already are_ , but what comes out instead is, “Okay.”

Sujin doesn’t respond to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who else was disappointed that seojun and sujin didn't meet by the end of episode 16? just me? ok


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my past-self really was like "oh lets just write something with no chronological order" and thought it would be ok AHHH i'll try to put some time stamp before new chapter so for this one: probably within the week after seojun came in and nursed sujin (chapter 2).

“Here.”

Han Seojun is pushing up a plastic bag to her face.

Well, not her face — but it might as well be for how utterly unexpected this is. Sujin gives the guy one long awkward glance, ensuring if this is actually happening. Not like she’s doing her work or anything; not like there isn’t another idol right there whose diet she needs to plan because she’s gotten reports that the idol has a record of suffering from bulimia before.

“Come on,” Han Seojun insists, and he pulls up a chair. Sits next to her.

Shameless.

Sujin half-wonders why she still entertains him. It’s just her contract, maybe. She’s doing all of this for work. Right?

But Seojun doesn’t look like he’s moving away any time soon, so Sujin closes the plan she’s been constructing — she still has a few days to come up with a strategy for it, thankfully, and she still needs to consult some of her seniors before being able to proceed forward — and peers in into the plastic bag and... _huh_.

“It’s cat food,” Seojun supplies for her, as if she couldn’t read the label on the packaging. “For your cat.”

Sujin narrows her eyes, unimpressed.

Seojun isn’t deterred by it. He rarely ever does. It’s the few things Sujin could always give him credit for, ever since they were schooled together: the fact that he never really cowers in front of her when she scowls or glares. No, Han Seojun looks her straight in the eyes, and he answers her without any superficial bias or sweetened words.

She doesn’t always like it, but there’s something in it that she can appreciate. She can trust, at times. Not like she’ll ever admit that aloud, though.

Currently, Han Seojun is leaning slightly forward; pressing one cheek against his knuckles. He stares her down. “I didn’t know you have a cat.”

“How could you?” She pushes the plastic down to see the food he bought. And - a toy. A small stuffed mouse in a bright neon pink colour. “What’s this?”

“I don’t know what a cat likes! That - that’s just what the store recommended,” He blabbers, poking the stuffed mouse that’s now in her palm. Sujin, for a moment, feels bad for the fans Han Seojun may have had. They could see him on stage, in interviews, and maybe even from clips of him practising or on those game shows. But have they ever seen him looking strangely defensive over a cat toy and now he’s poking at it, with what Sujin suspects are a pout on his mouth?

That’s — yeah, maybe she can understand the hype that comes with his looks.

Again, not like she’ll ever admit it though.

“And the food... I bought that one cause I noticed it’s the brand you bought from the last time I came by.” He explains, gesturing towards the nicely packaged stacks of food. Sujin can feel the awkwardness sinks in at the mention of ‘last time he came by’ — because the last time had been the only time he was ever in her home.

And that only time was when he’d basically barged in into her house, got her to bed, and nursed her to sleep.

Then, when Sujin had woken up, there’d been porridge ready for her to pre-heat, and some instructions for her to take the medicines if she still feels dizzy. There’s a higher chance that he didn’t stay the night — Sujin doesn’t think he’s allowed to — but it’s staggering, still, to convince yourself that it is all a dream. And then there’s his handwriting waiting for you, demanding you to eat, in the kitchen.

Also a follow-up note in that small square yellow-coloured post-it stating: _don’t come to work if you’re still sick, or i’ll carry you home myself_

It’s... not necessary, she thinks. He doesn’t have to. He’s not - responsible for her. In fact, it’s the other way around. So — why? Why had he done what he did? It’s not - pity. That’s what she remembers him saying from that night. So, what then? It can’t be camaraderie. She’s done so much damage for that, and Han Seojun has never liked her after all. He’s her client, and she’s his dietitian by contract, and - that’s all, right?

“What’s his name?” Han Seojun asks in an almost-whisper, and Sujin is pulled out from her thoughts. She stares at him and—

He’s smiling at her. Or, as close as a smile he could be with how he’d softened his facial muscles to be. Had Sujin ever seen him in this expression before? A few times, maybe, when he’s with his gang. When he’s with his idol group members. When - he’s talking about Jugyeong, the small amount of times he would mention her that is.

And Sujin feels - wronged, somehow, to be at the receiving end of it now.

What could possibly have her deserving of this?

Maybe she should’ve been more strict with their distant, maybe she should’ve never played into the act that he was sick and broken the pretence that she’d been keeping up. The pretence that they’d never known each other, and Han Seojun and Kang Sujin are meeting only for the first time. (Although he was _really_ _sick_ then, and she’d been worried that she’d failed Ahrim-unni. She can’t fail another person who's been good to her again. She won’t.)

Because if she had, if they continued the act, then... Then maybe Sujin won’t feel so guilty into tricking him for showing her the expression he must’ve only shown to people he genuinely cares about.

After all, Sujin’s the - enemy.

The one who coldly spread the one secret she swore she won’t. She could still recall the night, recall how she’d comforted Jugyeong, how she’d helped her even. And then that changed just a few weeks after. And she hadn’t cared at all. She was unfeeling throughout. Han Seojun had snapped his jaw right at her face, and she’d known he was right. _You destroyed yourself. How dare you show your face. Shameless. Monster._

There is no coming back from that.

She looks to her laps, shakes off the thought quickly. “She’s a her, idiot.”

“Oh?” Han Seojun straightens up, and it’s so - different, his tone, from the one she’s remembering briefly from a second before. The Han Seojun in her head, the last time they met and really talked, were so harsh. So sharp and angry. This Han Seojun sounds amused. Childish, even. Gentle. “What’s her name, then?”

Sujin thinks of her Scottish Fold at home, the first time she must’ve met Han Seojun. Her cat has never been fond of strangers, so she wonders if she’d been scared. Or if she’d been glad, after all, that someone had came in and took care of her owner the way Sujin realised she’s slowly failing those couple of days?

“You’re gonna laugh,” Sujin decides to glare.

“Tch,” Han Seojun clicks his tongue. Crosses his arms. “I won’t. Tell me.”

Sujin frowns. “No.”

“Oh come on. I bought you these food.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” God, if any of the agents overheard this, Sujin would get into trouble. Period. This isn’t what professionalism is supposed to look like. “You can take it back if you’d like.”

“And what, make Dak-Galbi with it?” Seojun is defensive. Sujin tries not to smile; she thinks she fails. “Aish. I won’t laugh. I won’t!”

“Why would you want to know?” Sujin stares at him now confusedly, but — okay, maybe it isn’t so bad, this conversation. She doesn’t find it... as irritating as she probably hopes it would be. Han Seojun has amazing reactions and answers.

“I just wanna call her with her name if I pet her the next time,” he shrugs.

And Sujin - she laughs. A short snort, but it’s laughter, she thinks, because she’s smiling when the noise tumbles out. She shakes her head, focuses back on her laptop - but she’s not really seeing. Han Seojun has completely distract her. “You think there’ll be a next time?”

“Why can’t it be?” He shoots back.

“Oi, you think your manager will allow it?” Damn, did he forget he’s an international k-pop idol, or what. “And I’m pretty sure that’s a breach of contract, anyways.”

“You come to my house all the time,” Seojun insists.

“During work hour. Most of the time, with your manager’s around. And even if he wasn’t, it’s for an official business and I contacted him first beforehand. Anything else, Mr. Han Seojun?”

“Aish,” He seems frustrated. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends can come over each other’s places all the time, can’t they?”

And just like that, whatever traces of playfulness Sujin has, is gone. _Friends_ , Han Seojun had used the word. _Since when?_ She wonders. _And_ , more importantly, she realises in dread, _until when will she scorch this friendship and left it to ruin too?_

Don’t panic, she tells herself. Don’t panic. Breathe.

Maybe it’s a slip of tongue. Maybe the terms ‘friends’ for Han Seojun is not — as scared as she thinks it should be. Right. She has to compose herself. She has to - to not let him know, more than he has, how she, herself, is damaged. Just another woman in fear of her own reflection.

Sujin swallows, squeezes the stuffed mouse, then lets it go. She smiles, small. “Her name is Cinderella.”

“ _Cinderella?_ ” Han Seojun chokes.

“What,” she glares. “Is there a problem?”

“No! No,” He’s trying not to smile, she could tell. God, why did she have to relent to him? And why does it get easier every time? “I’m not laughing. See?”

“Stupid.” She rolls her eyes, “You are. You’re a horrible actor, you know that?”

He ignores her, “Why though? Why Cinderella?”

“It’s nice,” She lies, never minding the fact that it’s because — Cinderella had been one of the first few major decisions she took after finally moving out from under her aunt’s protection. She was all alone in the city, starting this new job, and then there’d been... a space. For a pet. And - she’s her glass slipper. Or a symbol of it. That, in a way, Kang Sujin made it out. That she’s safe. “It’s a nice name.”

“Wah,” Han Seojun manages, sounding surprised. He leans back, nodding like he’s finally understood an explanation he’s been confused about before. And then, he squints, looking at her, “You’re a girl, after all, huh?”

Sujin rolls her eyes again, snaps, “What do you think I am - a velociraptor?”

“Huh? What’s that?” He voices, “A terminator, you mean? From the movie? Why are you bringing that up?”

Sujin can’t believe he’s real.

“Is your head empty or something?” She snarks right back, and she could see Seojun’s affected by this. The high of his cheeks are blotched with red, he gasps. Dramatic. Suddenly, Sujin isn’t as annoyed as before. 

“Hey!” Seojun yelps, knocking his own skull. “I write my own songs now, you know!”

“Where?” Sujin demands, just to see how he’ll react. “Let me see if the grammars and punctuations are correct.”

“No! You’re not allowed to hear them anymore. You can’t google it.”

“Wah, does your fans know Han Seojun cries easily?”

“I’m not crying!” He defends himself, huffing out. “I’ll have you know, three of those songs stayed in the billboard chart for more than seven weeks. You’re not allowed to hear them now, though. I forbid it.”

“Sounds like a good trade to me,” she snaps right back.

Seojun’s jaw drops and really, Sujin’s trying her best not to grin right then. Sometimes he’s way too easy to be fooled. It’s hard, at times like these, to really take in the fact that Han Seojun has a steady career and an honest career as an idol. He’s beloved by his fans, and has charmed people who aren’t.

He’s rough around the edges, yes, Sujin’s aware of the few scandals wherein he’d lost his temper, but he’s reliable by the end of the day. He does his job well, and he’s dedicated to it.

But then there are times like this, when he’s silly and childish and — dare she say it, _fun_.

Sujin can’t say she hates it.

Han Seojun scoffs, “You’re really too much sometimes, you know.”

“What, like you’re a saint?” She’s folding the plastic now with Cinderella’s new food inside, not really sure if she’s willing to smashed it together in the tote bag she brought along with some of the other files, or just hold it as is when she exits the agency later.

“I guess not,” Han Seojun finally relents, leaning back against the chair. He stretches his long, long leg out. His boot touches her shoes, but she’s trying not to think about that. “We have that in common, I suppose.”

He’s staring at her.

She taps the side of his boot, a slow act, but she doesn’t think he notices it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, i could've written their back-and-forth for like, hours, but i'm always scared like? i'd be repetitive and boring? i suppose there's still so many things i could learn from other writers!!! as a reader (or a writer yourself) at what point of a conversation between characters do you think will suffice until we can move to the next scene? or do you guys don't mind conversation or dialogue-heavy scene?
> 
> in any case!! here are some headcanons from this chapter that i wanna share ＼(≧▽≦)／  
> \- one of seojun's song is called " _yellow tulips_ " yes, it's a song for jugyeong  
> \- sujin probs still google it and listened to it after, and she probs cried a little cause its super a sad song :(  
> \- if u wanna see cinderella's energy, [this is what inspired me to write her in!](https://kitty.tumblr.com/post/637788437047623680) and yes, sujin has thousands pictures of cinderella in her phone!!!  
> \- seojun didn't actually notice cinderella up until he's about to leave sujin's apartment and he tried to feed her, which was how he knew what brand of food sujin usually buys for her

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send me prompt request at my tumblr @maariarogers!


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